Papier Mâché
by Klakasharkie
Summary: "Touko was insane. Well, no one would doubt it, anyway. They knew that after the King's disappearance, she wasn't the same.  Ferriswheelshipping. M for later chapters.


_**Hey! Sharkie here! Da. Well, since I'm sort of brainstorming for something to do with Weaknesses, I figure I'll write something of the Pokemon persuasion... Since this reflects off my team in Pokemon, bear with me...**_

Touko was insane. Well, no one would doubt it, anyway. They knew that after the King's disappearance, she wasn't the same. Snappy, isolated, and she even began speaking to the creatures she knew wouldn't respond in her tongue.

Cheren thought it was because she was a poser; she was acting like the one she lost for closure. Cheren was never one to feel remorse, and he wouldn't give it to Touko. Not now.

Bianca was worried for her friend. A person simply couldn't do a thing like this to someone like Touko; their mere vanishing act causing that carefully composed mask that hid her weaker emotions to crumple, as if made of flimsy papier-mâché.

The sad thing was that N probably didn't even know the effect he had on the teenager. He left to gather his thoughts: Discover himself and start anew. He left to rid his mind of the people who had 'grown the biggest fruit' in it. Namely, Ghetsis and Touko. However, trying to do this seemed to only make him more livid. N could feel himself changing on the long flight on Zekrom's loyal back. He just wasn't sure if it was for better or for worse.

_**End Intro Thing**_

"DAMN IT!" The trainer swore, punching the cave wall in a fit of rage, noting immediately that her Emboar's eyes shot to her closed knuckle, as if making sure it didn't bleed. This is was she desired, though... Craved... Touko wanted to let out the anger and pain she felt at N's, well, _betrayal._ It simply wasn't fair for her to have to feel this on the inside forever. It was comparable to- to- Well, to be cheesy, to being stabbed in the chest, over and over. But there was no blood. There was no logical reason for this pain. And that's what ticked her off most.

Breathing heavily, she sat against the wall of Challenger's Cave. It was long since abandoned by all other trainers, having been defeated by the Champion of Unova. Since then it had become her headquarters of sorts, her Pokemon keeping her company. She refused to even leave; she sent out one of her Pokemon, usually her darling Emboar, to get her food. She'd been living off her Pokemon's assistance and unwavering loyalty for months now. Soon, however, she knew she'd be short of money.

She slumped against the wall, unable to help the torrent of salty tears that flowed down her face. This was all his fault. N left her. N **made **her leave her mother and friends. Touko was in denial. She just wouldn't accept that it was her fault. She needed someone to blame...

"Lurk. Gol." Her Golurk said in that low, almost robotic voice. Touko cocked her head, trying desperately to comprehend what it was saying, like N so flawlessly managed. When her defeated, clouded blue eyes finally gave up- _for now_, she reminded herself-, the golem rose its powerful arms, slowly and mechanically pointing south. _The entrance to the cave..._ Touko thought quickly, shakily standing to her feet. There! A shadowy form, standing proudly at the cave's mouth, reaching to what Touko assumed to be his Pokeballs.

"Who's there?" The small teen demanded, her voice cracking. She wasn't used to having to scream that powerfully, trying to be dignified but failing horribly. Her lip trembled; the shadow looked like... Like N...

"Touko?" The voice called, and her eyes widened. She new that voice... She released her Eelektross, almost begging the Pokemon to use Flash as quickly as possible.

_**And thus ends the first chapter. I need critiques or something. I need to see if I should continue or not.**_

_**It's a cliffhanger, but a... Surprising one.**_

_**I know it's short... It is sort of the intro/prologue thing. I'm expecting to rake in longer chapters later on.**_


End file.
